


Art Imitates Life

by tardisy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Coda, Episode: s10e05 Fan Fiction, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-12
Updated: 2014-11-12
Packaged: 2018-02-25 02:43:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2605670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tardisy/pseuds/tardisy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which the quote "Life imitates art far more than art imitates Life," depends on the author.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Art Imitates Life

**Author's Note:**

> Also posted on [Tumblr](http://tardisy.tumblr.com/post/102434694037/art-imitates-life-10x05-coda).

 

> It had been a difficult case.
> 
> Hell, _difficult_ , was putting it nicely.
> 
> What it had been was damn near catastrophic. Little did they know, the odds had been against them from the moment they stepped into the woods. Two hunters and a depowered angel against a surprise ambush by a whole nest of vamps…
> 
> Sam sighed as he ran a hand through his silky mane, flinching when the motion pulled at the stitches Dean had carefully placed across his bulging bicep only minutes before. Across from him, on the other motel bed, Dean was doing the same to a weakly protesting Castiel.
> 
> “Dean –“
> 
> “Shut up, Cas. Man. You’re not healing,” Dean said, and Sam could hear how worried he was beneath his heated tone, see it in the stiff way he held himself. “Just let me do this, okay?” Dean mumbled under his breath.
> 
> Castiel shoulders slumped beneath Dean’s crimson-stained palms.
> 
> Sam felt weary down to his bones. The aftermath was always so damn messy.
> 
> At least there _was_ an aftermath, though, so that was something to be grateful for.
> 
> They sat together in silence, Sam’s stomach twisting every time Castiel’s breath hitched in foreign pain.
> 
> Dean glanced at Sam, worry, for the both of them, written plainly across his face, before he turned to Cas again.
> 
> “Not so long ago,” Castiel lamented, looking at his feet, “This never would have happened. I could have defeated those vampires with the touch of my hand. And then –“
> 
> “Cas,” the brothers said together, but it didn’t deter him.
> 
> “I could have healed you both,” he said, but he turned to Dean, raising a shaking hand to his cheek, “like this, with the same hand.”
> 
> Dean watched him with wide eyes, bandages falling loosely through his twitching fingers.
> 
> Like an anvil, Sam was hit with a sudden awareness of how close they sat to each other.
> 
> How close they always sat together. And stared. That same soulful, longing stare.
> 
> Every damn time.
> 
> Sam cleared his throat.
> 
> _One of these days_ , he thought, _one of these days I’m going to say something and put them out of their misery. I mean, a guy can only take so much of this. Does anyone ever spare a thought for Sam? How when Sam is all, “Hey guys, get this,” and no one is listening because they’re having another who-blinks-first contest? Or how Sam has to remind his emotionally constipated brother, “Hey jerk, eyes on the road,” when he’s making eyes in the rearview mirror at the angel passed out in the backseat? I mean, Sam is the guy that keeps this shit-show together, right? It is so fucking awkward lafwjoea? >F_

 

“What the hell are you writing!?”

Sam almost fell out of his seat at his brother’s shout, reaching out a flailing hand to slam the laptop shut.

“Dean! I uh, you were sleeping, I thought I’d do some research –“

“Nice try, Hemingway. That was so not research. What the fuck is _A More Profound Bond_?”

Sam prepared the puppy eyes he had been perfecting since birth before facing his brother.

Dean scowled at him. “Okay, you know what, I don’t want to know. I don’t _ever_ want to know. I’m gonna take a shower, and when I come out, the only thing I’m gonna see on that screen is Wiki-Ganks-R-Us or the directions to the nearest place with decent pie, got it?”

Sam let his most innocent smile play across his lips.

“Oh, fuck me,” Dean huffed, stomping toward the shower.

As soon as the bathroom door slammed shut, Sam opened the laptop, breathing a sigh of relief when the website assured him that his draft had been automatically saved.

His fingers flew across the keyboard, racing to finish his story before the dull beat of the shower spray ended.

He smiled triumphantly as he typed the final words, then scrolled back up the page to fill in the blank fields.

 

> **Fandom** : _Supernatural_
> 
> **Characters** : _Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Castiel_
> 
> **Pairings** : _CasDean_

 

Sam’s fingers hovered over the keyboard for a moment as he watched the cursor blink, considering. _Why not?_ he decided, scrolling back through his draft, quickly adding a few meaningful looks and lingering touches before amending the field:

 

> **Pairings:** _CasDean, Samstiel_  
> 

 

Satisfied, he clicked the upload button, a nervous jitter tripping up his spine as a popup cheerfully informed him: _Your work has been uploaded successfully!_

He couldn’t help but skim through it once more, even as he heard the faucets squeak, and Dean began thumping around in the bathroom.

 _Not too bad,_ he thought, _definitely better than the books, at least_. He glanced toward the ceiling guiltily. _Sorry, Chuck._

 

> “He okay?” Dean asked softly as the Impala sped through the night.
> 
> The leather creaked when Sam turned in his seat to look at Castiel, fast asleep in the backseat. His cheeks were flushed, but when Sam brushed the back of his hand across his forehead, he wasn’t overly warm to the touch.
> 
> “He’ll be alright, Dean.” Sam groaned involuntarily as he turned away, holding up his hand to stop Dean’s inevitable question. “And I’ll be fine, too. We’re fine.” Dean clenched his jaw tightly under Sam’s scrutiny. “Are you okay?”
> 
> “As long as you guys are fine, I’m all good,” Dean mumbled, surprising Sam with his honesty. He let it go at that.
> 
> They traveled in comfortable silence, the music turned low, softer than Cas’ breathing.
> 
> “What do we do now, Sammy?” Dean murmured eventually, hands tight around the wheel.
> 
> Sam looked at his brother – the greatest man he had ever know – then glanced over his shoulder at Castiel – the best friend they had ever had – before looking out at the road ahead. The sky was red with sunset, blacktop unfurling to the horizon.
> 
> “We stick together. And we take it as it comes. Seems to work pretty well, right?”
> 
> Dean huffed, a small smile quirking his lips. Castiel snuffled in his sleep.
> 
> Despite the uncertainty of their lives, the pain and the doubt, the fighting and the turmoil, in the deepest parts of himself, where no one could see, Sam was confident of two things: they could handle anything if they worked together.
> 
> And he loved them both, with all that he had. No matter what.

 

Sam smiled softly, closing the laptop lid with a gentle _click_ before he gave into the temptation to add the tag: _Nonfiction._

 


End file.
